


Teach Me, Don't Leave Me

by wakeupstiles



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, aka she had no idea that tracy was alive again, malia sees tracy for the first time after being brought back to life, mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-13
Updated: 2016-01-13
Packaged: 2018-05-13 17:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5711299
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wakeupstiles/pseuds/wakeupstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was; this was Beacon Hills, the supernatural capitol of the world, but even still, there were some things that…should just remain impossible.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach Me, Don't Leave Me

**Author's Note:**

> Was talking with ohfemslash on tumblr and we were getting excited about Tracy and Malia seeing each other again so viola, this fic was born.

The first time Malia saw her they were standing in the hallway. Teenagers swarmed around them, and Malia really wasn’t paying attention until she caught on to the other woman’s scent. She froze right there in the sea of people, not moving even when they bumped into her. Her head was down, fingers clutching her binder and books so tight she thought they might snap in half. She looked up and her dark eyes met even darker eyes and her breath hitched in her chest, her heart doing little blips and her stomach clenching as if she might be sick.

Tracy stared back at her, thin arms holding onto her school books in a vice grip, the spines cracking a little. Malia was in utter shock. How was this possible? She saw the other girl die. She saw her…she _saw_ her take her final breath. She really shouldn’t have been as surprised as she was; this was Beacon Hills, the supernatural capitol of the world for Christ’s sake, but even still, there were some things that…should just remain impossible.

The final bell rang, telling everyone to get into their designated classrooms, but the two women stayed in their spots. They were merely three feet away from one another, too close but too far. Malia wanted to take a step towards her, but she couldn’t get her limbs to move. She wanted to call out to her, but the muscles in her throat were stiff. So she stayed silent and still, looking, just looking, eyes wide with disbelief.

Shock, betrayal, curiosity, and regret mingled between the two women. They stood there for what felt like hours, until finally Tracy snarled, chucked her books against the wall, and leapt onto Malia, sending them both to the hard concrete floor. They wrestled, Malia using all of her strength at first to hold the smaller girl off but then giving up halfway and just letting Tracy get all of her frustrations out. She punched her several times, though the hits were weak and did little to hurt Malia.

“You tried to kill me.” Tracy spat weakly, slapping her.

“And then I tried to save you.” Malia pointed out, catching hold of her wrist as she raised it again for another slap.

Tracy yanked her hand away, sat back on Malia’s stomach. “You let me _die._ ” She choked out as if she had just realized that yes, she had been dead. Sincerely, utterly, undeniably dead.

“I tried to _save_ you.” The short haired brunette said softly, sitting up on her elbows, already completely healed from the miniscule blows Tracy had given her.

“I died!” Tracy shouted, then softer, “I died…I died…” She scooted off Malia’s lap, brought her knees to her chest, repeated, “I died…I _fucking_ died…”

“I tried—I tried.” Malia sat on her knees in front of the black haired girl, her eyebrows furrowed. She still wasn’t used to the whole comforting thing; frankly, it made her nervous and uncomfortable. “I tried.” She urged lowly, raising her arms and lowering them, not sure what to do with herself in front of the crying girl.

Tracy looked up at her, her eyes pooling with tears. “I died.” She said again. “ _I died._ ” She whispered, her voice breaking as if she was still trying to convince herself of this fact. Finally, Malia grabbed her into a hug and held her tightly. Tracy continued to cry and Malia just held her, unsure of what else to do. She let her sob, let her beat against her chest without any conviction in the weak hits, let her vent all the rage that had consumed her since being resurrected.

 

* * *

 

 

The second time Malia saw her she was standing in the middle of her bedroom, soaked from the thunderstorm, tears mixed with rain and blood and dirt. She didn’t say anything as Malia took her into the bathroom to clean her up and Malia didn’t ask. It was only when she’d changed into one of Malia’s t-shirts and shorts that she confessed she’d killed her father because Theo made her do it; twisted her mind, played with her head, manipulated her into thinking that it was what she wanted. Then she’d attacked the boy and he threw her into a ditch for ‘misbehaving’.

They lay in bed together, not touching, they weren’t that far yet, but close enough so that their body heat radiated against one another. Malia promised her that she would take care of it and Tracy fell asleep with a slight grin on her face.

 

* * *

 

 

The third time Malia saw her she was standing at her front door, crying again, but this time with a thankful smile on her face. Theo had disappeared. She couldn’t smell him in Beacon Hills anymore and Tracy knew that Malia was the once responsible for it. She didn’t ask and Malia didn’t tell. The dark skinned girl just impulsively wrapped her arms around the taller woman and held her tightly for a few minutes, scared to let go, afraid that the only positive thing she had in her life would disappear like they always did.

Malia didn’t go anywhere.

 

* * *

 

 

It took a while for Tracy to adjust, but Malia already suspected it would. She’d been a coyote for most of her life and even she still had a hard time being human, but Tracy had _died_ , which was a whole other situation. So it would take more time, and Malia was so patient. Scott was there to help, of course, but Tracy had taken to Malia and Malia was protective of Tracy, so they usually stayed to themselves when training.

Malia taught her impulse control, how to shift without completely losing it, and how to suppress the urge to kill on the full moon. There was one thing Malia couldn’t help with, though, and that was the darkness that stirred inside of the other girl; sometimes she would wake up in the middle of the night, fags and claws extracted, ready to kill anything that dared draw her attention. It took thirty minutes for Malia to draw Tracy back the first time. She didn’t ask what the nightmare was about because she already knew: dying.

Tracy would be able to control that darkness some day, and Malia would be there the whole ride, helping her, guiding her, staying as close as she wanted and as far as she needed.


End file.
